Waking From a Dream
Darkness.
A rustle of bed sheets.
Twisting turning.
He moaned out her name.
Each time getting more frantic then the rest.
The noises quiet down.
He opened his widely and sat up straight on his bed.
He scrunched up his face in frustration and wiped the beads of sweat
from his face.
It was her. In his dream.
He had dreamt of she and him together, entangled in white sheets, laughing
at something he couldn't quite remember.
She had ran her hands through his hair and smiled a mischievous sort
of smile at him as he held her in his arms.
And then they had...
No, he thought.
He wouldn't think of things like that.
He barely knew her.
One real conversation between them. It was nothing.
But she had understood you, his mind was saying.
He shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes.
For a fleeting moment he remembered her fingers running themselves
in his hair.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
Long dirty blonde hair.
Pale skin.
Fully exposed.
He opened his eyes.
He had pictured her with her eyes shut and mouth open, moaning out
his name.
He laid his head back down on his pillow.
It was ridiculous, the way he was feeling. The things he was dreaming.
He turned his head to look at the calendar he was marking off to the
days he would be back at Hogwarts.
No doubt he would see her there, walking alone and looking dreamy.
He could already see a copy of The Quibbler in her hand.
He buried his face in his pillow as he remembered his dream and closed
his eyes, smiling and turning red.